cold and broken hallelujah
by lea michele
Summary: "Kurt's about to fall asleep when Blaine murmurs, "Do you believe in God?"" Klaine.


Kurt lies on his back, the top of his head brushing against Blaine's, dark chocolate curls meshing against milk chocolate strands, arms stretched up so he can tangle his fingers with Blaine's, the checkered blanket protecting him from the grass of the field and whatever insects might attempt to crawl up his arm. A light breeze brushes against his face, as tender and soft as Blaine's thumb rubbing against his palm, and the sky is turning pink at the edges, threatening nighttime. Neither him nor Blaine are ready to leave, the day of tag and dancing and watching Blaine catch butterflies and tree climbing wearing them out, leaving them warm and content to lay for awhile. It's silent, save for the occasional bird or animal rustling in a tree near them, and Kurt's about to fall asleep when Blaine murmurs, "Do you believe in God?"

Kurt doesn't know how to react. His fingers tighten around Blaine's for a second, and although he would usually have no problem replying to this with a spiel about why should he and of course not and science but this is different, because he and Blaine have never talked about this before, and even though it's been a year, he still worries that he'll say something that will cause this dream to shatter.

"Why?" He asks instead, eyes frantically searching the sky for help. He's aware of the irony, but chooses to ignore it. He can feel Blaine shrugging.

"I'm just curious." Kurt bites his lip, letting go of Blaine's hand and rolling over, causing Blaine to shift with him. Always in tandem, fluid and in unison.

"Do you?" Kurt asks, eyes searching Blaine's face. Blaine smiles slightly, and even now Kurt is amazed how the slightest upturn of his lips can cause his face to light up, making him look stunning, the pink hues of the descending sun dancing across his face only adding to that effect. A curl falls out of place, and Kurt smiles, liking Blaine's hair like this much more, when it's free and loose and he can run his fingers through it, but unable to break through Blaine's puppy dog eyes when he tries to suggest using a little less gel.

"Of course." Kurt freezes, his hand trembling midair. That wasn't the answer he was expecting. Sure, he could see why people like Quinn Fabray could believe in God, with their perfect lives and untormented pasts, but Blaine? Of all people?

"What?" Kurt breathes before he can stop himself, hand falling to the ground in front of him. "How? A guy who says he loves everyone, but condemns us to a living hell before we die, so we can spend the rest of our life in actual hell?" He's sputtering now, crossed between angry, confused, and very upset. Blaine presses his lips together, looking down at his hands, fingers reaching out for Kurt's, exhaling when Kurt curls his fingers closer to himself.

"When I was younger...before I went to Dalton, a little bit after I came out to my parents, I mean, I didn't have a lot. I was confused, my father wouldn't come near me, and my mom cried a lot. I started walking around in the evenings, because it was the only place I could clear my head without feeling guilty. And I ended up in a church." Kurt's not sure where this is going. As far as he knows, churches don't think a lot about people who are gay, or females, or anything logical. He's always thought Blaine was logical. "And I just stood in the back, listening to the preacher talk, and do you know what he was saying? We are all the same in God's eyes. All of us. We don't have the right to judge other people because we're all in the same boat, and He loves us all the same, no matter what we've done or who we love." Blaine reaches out then, letting his fingers tangle with Kurt, who doesn't have the energy to fight it. He just lets it happen, the feeling of Blaine's fingers comforting in this otherwise confusing situation.

"People are always going to be quick to judge us." Blaine continued, staring down at their hands. "I learned that, you learned that, Santana learned that...it's a fact of life. But that's people. That's not God. I left that church weeping. And when I would feel alone, or scared, or unwanted, I would just remember that someone out there wanted me here. That I was created for a purpose. And that I had to keep going."

"Why's that?" Kurt asks softly, his voice stuck in his throat. Blaine smiles, glancing up at Kurt.

"If I had forgotten that, I would never have met you." Kurt blinks, the sincerity and honesty and genuine belief in Blaine's eyes causing him to falter, everything he's known wavering. Blaine has the power to do that, he's realizing, take things he knows and turn them upside down, leaving Kurt dazed for a couple of days.

"He kept me alive. But you brought me back to life." Blaine concludes, lifting Kurt's hand and brushing his lips against Kurt's knuckles, his voice wavering with the constriction of tears. "And it was a miracle that you stopped me on that stairway. I think that's why He kept me going. Because I had to find you." Blaine looks back down at their hands, but the warm splash of saltwater on Kurt's hand makes him realize it's more than just demureness that causes Blaine to look away. Kurt squeezes Blaine's hand tightly. He's unsure of a lot of things, like how fluid sexuality is, or whether or not the dwarf in the teapot is real, or how well his dad's heart will handle Congress.

But the one thing he's never unsure of is how much he loves Blaine, and how grateful he is to have tapped him on the shoulder. Without thinking about it, he lifts his head toward the sky, and feeling both foolish and nervous at the same time, sends up a quick thought. Thank you for keeping him safe. Thank you for bringing him to me.

Blaine wasn't the only one in need of a savior.


End file.
